by Eden O'Neill
“Taylor, I think?” he said, then twitched a smile my way. “Why?”
Shrugging casually, I let go of the girl who’d found me on this couch. She’d been hinting at something promising so I let her stay, but at the present, I found something a little more tempting to bide my time with. Something a little more fun, and if I got to fuck with Billie’s douche of a boyfriend in the process, so much the better.
I wet my lips. “You got digits?”
“Of course.”
I shrugged again. “Shoot a text over,” I said. “Maybe Taylor should know Mr. Huntington is here.”
I got the look from my buddy I often got when I was up to no good, but also a fist tap when he went to work. He pulled that phone right out, shooting that text, and after kissing the cheek of the sweet thing who’d found me on the couch—Bette, I think her name was—I bid my leave, then got to my feet. Niko had finished his text at this point, joining and hugging me over by the arm.
“Taken care of,” he passed off before taking another sip of his beer. We clanked them together, and with a look, I led. We stalked right up to the beauty queen and her dick of a boyfriend, the pair in heavy conversation. Perhaps that was what gave me the confidence to come over. Not able to see those bright, emerald green eyes of hers or get a whiff of that sweet floral skin.
Because the moment I had…
Jarring, point blank when she stared at me and even worse since it wasn’t across a wide auditorium. Fuck me, if I wasn’t completely and irrevocably aware whenever this girl was in the same room with me and had been ever since that day I’d fingered her into ecstasy. It’d been a game I’d been playing, one I’d told my boys all about that day at the gym. But I also told them I had control. I controlled her and not the other way around. I’d gotten what I wanted that day, yes.
But it hadn’t been without collateral damage.
I was feeling that damage now, standing in front of her, and even though she was with another guy, all I could see was her. All I could do was stare at her, those sparkling greens wide and those pouty lips parted. She hadn’t been expecting me obviously, but that was the only surprise she’d allowed herself to show.
“LJ. Niko.” Too stubborn when she jerked that chin high and tried to physically grow herself in front of me and my boy. Those black stilettos maybe gave her an inch and a half, but nowhere near my nearing six-foot-seven. She waved a hand to Mr. Huntington. “You know Sinclair.”
The guy puffed up too, an obvious attempt at intimidation, and I nearly laughed. He put out a palm. “Lance.”
“Sinclair.” I shook, as did Niko when he eased over. I pointed back to him. “You know my buddy.”
“Right,” Sinclair said, letting go of Niko’s hand, then right back to his prize. Right back to Billie. He held on to her like a life force, and the whole thing was motherfrickin’ hilarious. He stood in front of me now like he hadn’t completely let loose in a house full of people mere months ago.
I wonder if he even told her.
Refusing to care, I passed a glance over the two. “Surprised to see you guys,” I said, casual about it. “Together. We must know the same friends.”
Emphasis on the together part, but neither Billie nor her boy toy gave me an in. Mr. Huntington merely smiled at what I said. He tipped his chin. “We must. And how have you been, LJ? Taking care of yourself?”
Better than he was of his girl, and fuck did I know that. How easy it’d be for me to blow his shit out of the water right now. Especially if he hadn’t said anything to her. Lucky for him, that wasn’t my way of doing things. I did things… differently, and I watched all that come to fruition right in front of me. All too suddenly, Mr. Huntington got a text, one I might have not put much stake in.
Had it not been for the look he gave it.
He bunched his hair right after, his teeth biting down hard, and I gave him the benefit of the doubt in that moment. He had a choice to make here if what he was looking at was all me, all my and Niko’s doing. I had my boy set up a little something, but Mr. Huntington definitely could let it go. Be a decent human being.
“I got to take a work call real quick,” he said, so obviously choosing not to, and I had to hand it to him.
He gave the consideration all of half a second.
This guy was an uber douche, and unsuspecting Billie let him be one. She frowned. “Now? We just got here.”
“I’ll make it quick, love,” he said, kissing her cheek. “I’ll come find you? Promise it will be quick.”
As quick as he could get his rocks off, but I said nothing, smiling at him when he looked at me. I lifted a hand. “Later, bro.”
Hell, if I got that salutation back the way he looked at me, and after he left, I tugged at Niko. I wanted him to make sure Mr. Huntington got to where he needed him to be. I jerked a subtle look to follow, and grinning, Niko backed up a little.
He lifted his beer. “Better go mingle,” he said, casual about it. He winked at Billie. “Catch you later, Queen B.”
She rolled her eyes at him, and when she started to leave, I should have let her go. I should leave her life alone. It had nothing to do with me and maybe could even screw me, which had been why I’d kept my distance in the first place. My buddies had been right at the gym. Being seen or even spoken about in the same sentence with the kid of one of my business partner’s enemies was a bad idea.
So why the fuck did I intercept her?
I cut right in front, shielding her from anything but me. “So you and the pretty boy,” I stated, directing my beer bottle in that direction. “You back together then?”
No idea why I asked her that. No idea why I even let it be known I knew anything about her beyond the need to know. And clearly the information shocked her.
Her eyes twitched wide as she shifted on her heels. “How do you know we broke up?”
Casual about it even when the knowledge was far from, I shrugged. “Got my sources.”
“Let me guess. You know a guy?”
Surprised by that, I looked at her.
Her eyes lifted. “Davey and Griff said you’re called the Kingpin around here.” Putting that out there, she eyed me down, and if that heated gaze didn’t shoot activity straight into my dick. She hugged her perky breasts. “They say you run all and know all. That true?”
I’d been called a few things, Kingpin one of them, and I smiled before wetting my lips. I took a long drink, one she noticed as she watched the beer travel down my throat. Her gaze settled somewhere across my chest, and if she didn’t hug those beautiful tits of hers more. I could basically see them above that red dress painted on her body, a perfect valley I wanted to shove my face or dick between.
“Depends on who you ask,” I said, only too wild. She wet her lips, and the activity in my jeans jumped from slightly uncomfortable to getting this girl into the nearest closet and shoving that skirt up above her sweet little peach of a bottom now. My fingers inside her hadn’t been enough that day, and I closed space.
She immediately noticed, of course, removing it. Her arms covering her body like a lifeline, she backed against a wall. “Well, my sources say you’re nothing but a bully, a brute who throws his weight around and apparently has Professor Douglas by the balls. So you’re a drug dealer too?”
“I deal with dealers. So if that makes me one…” I shrugged, and she scoffed. “So you seeing the pretty boy now. Or what?”
“What’s it to you?”
“It’s not. Just didn’t think you were that stupid.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I put my drink down on a table, pressing a hand to the wall and looking down at her. “He threw you away, and you come right back.”
“He didn’t throw me away.” She pushed off me, shoved me away, but I grabbed her wrist.
I jerked her to me. “He did, and any guy who does that isn’t worth your time.”
“And what? You are?”
She started to walk away, but I pulled her back, my
hands full of her hips. I pressed her to the wall again, her throat jumping.
“I value what’s mine,” I said, too close. I knew because I could taste her again, that floral scent deep in my chest and warming my blood. “And I may be a brute. I may be a bully, but when I have something good, I don’t throw it away.”
Red lashes flicked wildly over her eyes, her body shivering. Especially when I pushed off of her.
I grabbed my beer. “Don’t be stupid, beauty queen. You’re better than that.”
Billie
All too quickly, he walked away, leaving me in his wake, and I dizzied yet again.
But he’d thrown me away too.
I hated that my thoughts even went there, and they confused me so much I did text Sinclair. I needed to get out of here. I needed to go home. This was our first public appearance since kind of talking to each other again. LJ was wrong. We weren’t together, but we were talking.
Why did he even care?
Why did he know, and so confused, I shook my head. I asked Sinclair where he was via text, but when he didn’t respond, I immediately sought out a bathroom. I needed to throw some water on my face. I needed a reality check.
“Bathroom?” I asked someone in the house. I didn’t know this house. I didn’t know these people. Sinclair had said he had some friends throwing a party, so we came out, the pair of us trying to do something different and me trying to be more adventurous. I’d basically cut myself off from the world after he’d broken up with me, become a hermit besides my visits with Mom, so I was trying to be better. Better only got me under the arm of Lance Johnson again.
“When I have something good, I don’t throw it away…”
Needing to get him out of my head, I followed the directions to the bathroom and threw it open. I hadn’t knocked first. For some reason hadn’t bothered.
I should have bothered.
The space was preoccupied, two guys in there. One was balls deep behind the other, grunting wildly over the guy below, but the moment I came in, they both stopped.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped out, backing away, but not before seeing the other guy’s face, the one bent over the sink with his pants down to his ankles. Catching my eyes, the guy’s widened, completely horrified.
That’s because he knew me.
“Billie,” Sinclair gasped, pushing the guy behind off him. Sinclair immediately righted himself, getting his pants back up. “It’s not what it looks like.”
It wasn’t what it looked like? The fact that that was all he could come up with floored me, and I raised my hands.
“Don’t fucking talk to me,” I growled, shaking as I backed out of the bathroom. My eyes brimming with tears, I ran, looking for my coat, and the moment I found it, I shoved my arms inside. I hadn’t driven, but I had one of Sinclair’s car keys on my chain. He’d given it back to me once we started talking.
Such a huge mistake.
I was basically in tears as I ran through the house, and by the time I made it outside and into Sinclair’s car, my cheating ex had gotten his shit together enough to chase me.
He pressed his hands to the glass of the window of his own car, but I locked the door, keeping him out. He tugged at the door. “Billie, open this door and talk to me!”
So much made sense now. He’d said he’d been confused…
Shaking, I turned on his car, ignoring his roars on the other side as I pressed my foot to the gas and peeled away. I tried not to think about LJ’s words about being stupid during the drive.
Because if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop crying.
Chapter Thirteen
Billie
A knock slammed against my door some days later, and though I thought I had a good handle on my curling iron, it slipped and burned the shit out of my finger.
I cursed, dropping the damn thing, and all the while, someone pounded at my door like the police. I managed to get my curling iron up, and after running my finger under some cold water for like a second, I rushed to the door. At this point, the person was ringing the doorbell like crazy, and I screamed I was coming.
“What do you want—” My voice screeched to an abrupt cut-off.
I thought the abs had something to do with it.
Glistening and sweaty, Lance Johnson stood at my door in a pair of gray running shorts hung so low I could have easily seen dick cleavage if he stood at the right angle. He was also shirtless, his shining pecs heaving with breath while he gripped my door frame in a pair of red running shoes. He looked around me. “Shit. You okay?”
Completely distracted by the glistening male in front of me, it took me a second to realize he’d shouted and was still shouting at me. I shook my head at the frenzy, and with wide eyes, he had hands on my shoulders and was then pushing me out of his way. I backed up. “What the hell?”
He darted inside my house like he had the right, like he had the gall to even do anything after the last time I’d seen him. That party still burned in my mind, for many reasons, and his part hadn’t helped. He’d just been the dagger in an evening of stupid, an evening he’d called me out on and I still felt the burn.
Even still, I followed LJ, screaming myself at the jump of muscles that roved and shifted as he raced through my house like he was on fire. I turned a corner, and he was at my bedroom door. I just about grabbed him until I saw it.
Smoke curled from beneath my door in a thick cloud, and screaming for a different reason now, I launched myself at it. I went for the knob, but LJ jerked me back.
“Wait,” he called, clearly the more well-reasoned between the two of us when he placed the back of his hand against the door. Clear, he went for the doorknob, and when he shot my bedroom door open, smoke billowed into the hall so quick I thought half the house was burning down.
I coughed, sputtering as I pushed my way inside. The room was so cloudy I couldn’t see much, but the fact my iron blazed in a fiery glory on my ironing board let me know pretty quick it was the source. I immediately went for it, but I was jerked again, LJ again when he tugged me back and was once more the rational one between the two of us.
Out of nowhere, he had a fire extinguisher, one he worked like an actual firefighter when he fought the flames on my ironing board. He snuffed the flames out with like two, maybe three short puffs, not even wasting it, and coughing, I made my way over to my bedroom window to open it.
“What the fuck, beauty queen?” LJ growled behind me, and apparently, I was either too panicked or not strong enough to open my window. It didn’t budge, and LJ pushed me aside again, a sweaty arm into my side when he tucked the extinguisher under his arm, then forced the window open the rest of the way. I’d had it open a little. Though not much. He wafted the smoke out, and I took a towel beside him, doing the same.
Together, we got the smoke out to the point I could see my bedroom again, and once cleared, LJ was even more sweaty than when he’d started. He ran an arm across his glistening brow, frowning at me. “You trying to kill yourself or something? Good thing I was running outside.”
Yeah, good thing, the charred remains of my ironing board beneath a smoking iron. I huffed. “I was trying to iron a dress.”
“By setting it on fire? Jesus, beauty queen.” He lowered the extinguisher. “I don’t know how you iron, but when I do it, it usually consists of a few less flames.”
I so didn’t need this from him now, his attitude. Lifting my eyes, I propped my hands on my hips. “Where’d you even get that thing?”
He’d raced into the room so quickly with that fire extinguisher it’d been like he’d conjured it, and after a couple more puffs on the iron, I assumed for good measure, he stood back.
“All these rentals have them,” he said, eyes narrowing at the smoke. “Mine was in the laundry room. Figured yours was too.”
I guessed he’d figured right, and good thing. We might have been having a different conversation had he not happened to be running past. I wouldn’t have gone for the extinguisher since I clearly didn
’t know about it. I grumbled. “I guess you saved my life or something.”
“You guess?” He grinned a little, that smug grin that only Lance Johnson could manage to achieve and didn’t fail to pulse activity into my nether regions.
The bastard.
I still hadn’t forgiven him for basically calling me stupid that night at the party. I had been, but I didn’t want him calling me that.
He wiped his brow again, his pecs jumping. He was a gorgeous male specimen, and worst of all, he knew it. His grin widened. “I guess I’ll take that. You all right now, or do I have to worry about you burning the rest of your house down?”
Eyes widening, I ran out the room and into the bathroom. I’d, ironically enough, left my curling iron on, and once I got inside, I gave a breath of relief. Nothing was on fire there, a good thing, and I started to shut it off until a deep chuckle came from behind me. Lance Johnson was in my bathroom, that grin only too wide.
“Maybe I should stick around.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” I stated, watching as he cut around me.
He picked up the curling iron. “Your presence around electrical appliances begs to differ.” He shoved a thumb back. “I just unplugged your iron by the way. The same iron that just almost set your house on fire.”
Fuck.
“What’s your deal?” He lounged back in my space like a god on his throne, his biceps pulsing up and everything. “I’ve never seen you this scatterbrained. You usually have your shit together. There wouldn’t be trouble in paradise would there? With Mr. Huntington?”
I was sure he was well aware of what had happened at the party he’d attended. And I was sure he was even more aware Sinclair and I weren’t together anymore. After all, he was the Kingpin, wasn’t he?
“We’re not together anymore,” I said, putting things lightly. The moment I had gotten back to my house, I’d thrown Sinclair’s keys outside of it. He’d pounded on my door for what felt like a lifetime before he’d given up, and that’s when his calls and texts had started. I didn’t answer anymore at the first. I told him I was done, we were done, and that was it.
